The Keeper
by ravenbynight
Summary: To guard the demon is a sacred duty. Rin is the Keeper of the dark-eyed and deadly demon boy; it is her duty to look after him. But to be a Keeper is lonely, and the demon is guarding his secrets closely. When Rin's reality is jarred, all she has left to cling to is her sarcastic charge. Will feelings grow? Or will Rin's inner demons get the better of her? Rin/Len
1. Drenched in Gold

**Drenched in Gold**

**RIN**

_It is your duty, sweet daughter.  
_

_In doing this, you will save lives._

_You will protect us all._

_You understand, don't you?_

_My sweet, sweet daughter._

_Freedom is such a small price to pay._

[ * ]

The Imperial Magician was, once again, stroking my fingers.

His fingers were thick and round and hard, like over baked sausages, and they were hot, uncomfortably so. Warmth oozed off him like pus from a sore. To be near him was to risk suffocation, or a sweat pool shimmering wetly against the soft silk of your kimono. I was used to his heat, though, and his inappropriate touches, his breath heavy and hot, the unexpected brush of skin against skin. Though, in this case, it felt more like skin brushing up against tough leather.

Perhaps Father saw. Sitting directly across from me, his stern face raised up, hard eyes a steely grey with a bluish, metal shine, could have easily twitched his head side ways and seen the dull brown sausages that caressed my milky skin, moving slowly, rhythmically. But either my Father never saw, or couldn't summon the energy to care. Instead, he focused on the woman on the other side of the room, a beautiful lady wrapped in soft blue silks, speckled with cherry blossoms, fat orange koi dancing and splashing at her ankles, and a great silver moon blooming like some godly flower over her left breast. Thick turquoise hair was strung back in two pony-tails, tumbling artfully down her back, and glistening coolly in the early morning sunlight. Her skin was the same milky white shade as mine, pale but not so much that it becomes pasty.

All in all, she was a beautiful woman.

It was the eyes that let her down.

Perhaps they were once beautiful. Perhaps they once shone with life, bright green flecked with blue, round and huge, like polished jade. They were not beautiful anymore. Today, they were flat, dull, lifeless. Eyes like dead stone. She stared forward unseeingly, dead to the world, dead to the man sitting beside her, dead to the comforting and protective hand that clutched her shoulder. It was a disturbing thing, to stare into her cold, cold gaze.

I wondered, briefly, if I looked anymore alive then her.

"I must thank you for this again, Kagamine-dono." The man was saying. He was the same age as his pretty sister, ten-and-six, a strong man of modest height and broad shoulders and a shock of turquoise hair. His eyes were narrow and sharp like daggers and shimmered a pale blue, like ice, potted with the green of old emeralds. His kimono was a pale cream colour, the pants stained grey, with a thin brown length of cloth that wrapped tightly about his slender waist.

"I do not know how to repay you for your generosity -"

"Enough, child." Father said calmly, but sternly, and the boy instantly fell silent. He knew better then to disobey the lord of his province. With a flick of his wrist, Father could have his whole village burned to ashes, his throat slit and his sister ripped apart limb by limb, and no-one would so much as utter a whisper in protest. "You needn't thank me again. My daughter has known all her life where her fate lies. Though she will be meeting it sooner then expected – at fourteen, rather then sixteen – it matters not. She knows how to behave, what to do. Your sister was nothing more then a temporary Keeper. It was always planned that she would be put aside."

The young man nodded. Father might have seen it for a sign of respect, but I saw it for what it was. An attempt to hide the confusion twisting across his expression, evidence that he couldn't tell whether or not my lord father had just insulted his sister's honour, whether they have just received a compliment. Was his sister truly expendable? Just some toy to be played with, tossed about carelessly, then thrown away when entertainment could no longer be found and left to rot in the gutter? _How could he say such things...? I have served him so loyally, offering my sister in the first place-_

I blinked.

My eyes hurt.

"You and Miku-san may leave." Father said dismissively. He stood, and the Imperial Minister scrambled to his feet and released my hand; I could feel sweat bubbling between the thin lines in my palm, sparkling wetly in the shadowy crevasses between my fingers, and dribbling down my wrist. The boy rose, too, after a moment of respectful hesitation. His sister clung to his arm, her legs wobbling dangerously, eyes rolling crazily in their sockets; briefly, she slumped against him and did not move, shivering all over, empty eyes staring out darkly. Then she blinked and seemed to regain her strength somewhat, and her brother tugged at her arm and steered her away.

The door was a sliding paper door, the trade mark of all Japanese houses. The door whispered roughly as it opened, whispered roughly when it closed. Father's lips moved, his voice low and gruff, and the Imperial Magician bowed deeply, so that the wide sleeves of his gown pooled around his ankles and the sharp spike of his brown-streaked-grey beard stabbed into the smooth flooring. Then he moved swiftly from the room. His presence was no longer needed.

Father turned to me.

He didn't speak, but it didn't matter, because I already knew what he was going to say.

[ * ]

The Garden of Secluded Harmony was one of four gardens on the estate. The others were Garden of Falling Stars, Garden of Heavenly Radiance, and Garden of Cherry Blossoms; all were beautiful in their own unique way, but Secluded Harmony was my favourite. Here, there was a broad lake of dark blue water that glistened with a silvery sheen in some places, sparkled gold in others, speckled with whites and greens. Tall trees bent sideways, with long, needle-thin branches twisting and forking and jerking through the cool spring air, dripping with pale purple blossoms that would soon bloom into large purple flowers, petals soft as velvet and dotted with white swirls. The grasses were kept short and shivered in the faintest breeze, murmuring quietly. A wooden bridge zig-zagged over the lake, all polished and gleaming golden-brown.

On the far side of the lake, a few meters away from the bridge's base, there was a building. Small, wooden, with a roof of ebony tiles. Paper enchantment clung to the door, covered every inch of it, all with kanji symbols painted on with thick black ink.

Father walked me to the bridge, but from there, I would go on my own. He glanced at me briefly, eyes like cold steel, and then he looked away, staring straight ahead, and I started off over the bridge. The boards creaked softly under even my little weight; koi fished danced and splashed through the lake's shadowy depths, seaweeds writhing like murky tentacles, bubbles popping loudly upon meeting the surface. Birds tweeted merrily in the nearby trees, and the fragrance of blooming flowers tickled my nose. The wind was cool and moved gently across my skin.

Then I reached the hut, and the world held its breath.

Shadows were thicker here, stretching long and angrily, darkly, hands of darkness reaching out. The grasses were less loved and haphazardly trimmed; occasionally, the grass would explode from the earth like green spears, and only a few paces away it would be ripped apart, weak and dying, dust and dirt peering through the pale green foliage. The birds were silent, the breeze was chilling.

I moved without stopping.

I felt no fear. I had been trained since birth not to feel fear.

I touched my hand to the enchantment-coated door, and my fingertips began to tingle. The enchantment peeled away and the door swung inwards with a low and echoing creak, and inside the darkness was suffocating, thick like water, a wall of black stone. I strode in unblinkingly, following the sharp beam of light that sliced through the shadowy world like a glowing golden arrow. I reached out to my left and felt the lantern hanging from the iron hook and quickly pulled it off. I struck a small fire with the matches that sat close by; the flame was small but burned fiercely, almost angrily, spitting fluttering orange sparks and sending waves of heat rolling over my fingers. I quickly lit the lantern, glancing away as the oil burst into hungry red flames. Candlelight spilled around me, tinged orange and red, and I pushed the door closed and the latch clicked into place.

Cautiously, I moved forward, and allowed the blazing orange flame to light my way.

I took not six steps, and reached the iron bars. Taller then me, maybe taller then my father, and wrapped in more enchantments. Beyond that was a dirty floor riddled with clumps of grass and food scraps and a winding iron chain that glistened redly in the fierce firelight. The chain twisted and jerked like a metal snake slithering through the undergrowth before, at last, it wound tightly around the ankle of my charge.

The boy was not a particularly terrifying image. Curled up in a ball, arms hanging limply between his legs, one foot pulled in while the other stretched out harmlessly, he seemed to be a simple child sleeping the morning away, perhaps conserving energy for the exhausting farm work most peasant boys must endure. He wore white pants smeared with dirt and grime and a tight fitting black vest of some thin material that revealed every line and bump that arched or criss-crossed over his slender torso; a toned body, muscles evenly spaced, with his shoulders bare and lightly tanned. The right side of his body was wrapped in a length of soft silk, dyed dark blue and decorated with highly detailed depictions of flowers in full bloom, flowers with short, jagged petals, coloured in dull reds and ghostly grey; it pooled about his waist and was kept there by a long strand of yellow rope. His hair was girlishly long, but strung back in the tight pony-tail, looked short; the locks were drenched in a molten gold that caught the candlelight and shone like strips of stolen stars, turning amber and red and orange where the light split and bent and scattered.

I made no sound, made no move to announce my presence, but he chuckled anyway. It was a dusty sound, low, hoarse, crackling.

A pair of striking blue eyes rose to meet my own.

I blinked, and suddenly they were a smouldering scarlet, and his body was pressed right up against the enchanted iron bars. He reached out as if to touch me, but the air shivered and a bright green light flashed, and he jerked his hand away, cringed in pain. Then he looked at me and grinned lopsidedly, showing unnaturally sharp white teeth.

"So..." The demon whispered, the husky sound shivering through my body. "...you're my new Keeper, eh?"

* * *

**An idea I thought I'd try out. Len's a demon, Rin is his Keeper. More on that subject will be explained in the next chapter. The dead-eyed girl was Miku. I think its pretty obvious who her brother is :3**

**My first RinxLen story :D I normally prefer to write them as twins, but I thought I'd give it ago, give Len the angry, sacrastic personality I normally reserve for Utatane Piko and do a 360 on Rin and make her emotionless. The rating may or may not change, depending on how violent or lustful I choose to make Lenny boy ;)  
**

**Review for more~  
**

**Thanks for reading! I apologise for any grammar mistakes!  
**

**[ EDIT ] Went through and got rid of some of the mistakes the lovely ~honorificabilitudintatibus (sorry if I spelt that wrong! xD) pointed out! Thanks :)  
**

**- ravenbynight  
**


	2. Ebony Speckled Scarlet

**Ebony, Speckled Scarlet**

**RIN**

It was my duty, as Keeper, to attend to the demon each morning and each night. I was to bring him food on bamboo trays dyed ebony and reset the powerful protective charms that held his lethal frame trapped within the dirty cell and occasionally even sweep out the small empty space of floor between the exit and the oppressive iron bars. I was to stand in the dense darkness with the lantern held carefully in one hand, my face turned red and gold and amber by the fierce firelight, as the small frame danced and shuddered and crackled within its glass cage. I was never to speak whilst inside the demon's foul shack, nor was I ever to speak my name, because if a demon knew your name, then he had power over you. He could make you do as he wished, twist and poke and snap your will in his hands like some pointless play thing. And when the demon was a boy and his toy was a girl, the consequences of such a mistake could be traumatizing. There had been times in the past when weak-willed Keepers gave into his smouldering blue gaze, speckled white and green and purple, were enhanced by his molten gold locks and sweet, gentle smile. All were long gone.

However, the no-talking rule only applied to me.

My charge seemed to very much enjoy the sound of his own voice.

"What's the weather like today?"

The broom was cold and heavy between my fingers. The straw whined loudly with each long, hard sweep. The lantern hung on its iron hook, blazing bright orange framed with red and gold. The flame sent shadows dancing haphazardly across the dirt flooring, creeping up the walls in phantom shapes, and giving the iron bars a ghostly look to them. The demon sat in a pool of darkness, with his legs stretched out, so the white of his pants caught the light and glowed dully. Beyond his shoes and ankles, I could see nothing, but I could hear him chomping lazily on an apple, could hear his husky voice drifting out into the open.

"No answer again?" He sounded disappointed. I heard the low _thump _as he threw the corpse of his apple away. "Why is it that when I meet a pretty girl, she simply refuses to talk to me? Ah, what do you care. You don't want to hear about me complaining, right? You wanna hear a story? I know a lot. I know this one about a prince and a peasant girl..."

I kept sweeping. The demon's rambling didn't bother me in the least. In fact, it was surprisingly easy to ignore. It was when he lurched out of the darkness and cracked his hand against the invisible shield of protective charms that I couldn't help but react. It was hard enough not to jump at the sudden appearance of a tall boy with fiery red eyes, but the abrupt flare of green light often made me stagger. Once, I fell over, and the demon laughed and laughed and laughed, kicking his legs and causing his chain to hiss and jangle in a series of high, piercing sounds. I was immediately swallowed by a cloud of soft brown dust, and coughed quietly in the corner until he settled down and returned to mulling in the shadows.

"...and they lived happily ever after. Or some shit like that. That one sucked anyway. I don't like stories with happy endings." He paused briefly, perhaps to see if I would look up and ask why. When I didn't, I heard him sigh heavily.

"I'm lying, actually. I love stories with happy endings. They're the best stories. You know, the ones where the knight in shining armor saves the damsel in distress from the angry dragon!"

Stories with happy endings were childish. There was no knight in shining armor to save the damsel in distress. The angry dragon most likely plucked him off his horse and roasted him alive with a single fatal exhale, crunched his bones and his armor and his skull between razor sharp teeth and spat out that annoying sharp sword. The damsel cried and cried and cried until the dragon went back into his cave and left her to freeze to death on the mountain side. Then he ate her corpse, too, for a summer snack.

That was my father's version of the story.

That was also reality. That was bad luck and bad choices and bad consequences of said bad choices. It was how I had been raised to see the world, a child of fourteen already exposed to the darkness and the lies and the death and the despair. As I stood in the shadows and half-heartedly listened to the demon gush over fantasies and talk endlessly about rubbish he didn't even understand, the initial thrill of terror I felt when he vanished and reappeared before the bars, eyes blazing scarlet and lips curled back in a lop-sided, arrogant smirk and the chain stretched taunt by the abrupt movement, quickly seemed a foolish reaction.

The demon was just a stupid little boy, kept on the estate for the lord's amusement.

I lifted the broom and attacked the net of cobwebs dangling in one dark corner. Though I couldn't see them through the gloom, I could imagine the spider jerking in terror and surprise and scrambling to safety, scurrying across the roof like a living speck of shadow, as this huge, monstrous beast of sharp twigs and loose strings ripped its home to shreds. Dust fluttered through the air like golden-brown snow and glittered dully in the fire light before settling at my feet and melting into the flooring.

I could feel the demon watching me.

"Do you have a name?" he asked suddenly. That was how it was with him. One moment, he was talking about the weather and the sun and the clouds, the next he was rambling on about cities and the pretty girls who lived there and the stupid lords who governed with one hand on a sword and the other in his pants.

I didn't answer.

There was no way I was giving a demon my name.

"Mind if I give you one?" He asked. I risked a glance in his direction and saw his tongue was running laps over his pale pink lips. Shadows splintered across the right side of his face and spilled over his shoulder and pooled in his lap like a puddle of ebony. His head was cocked to one side and his eyes shone a brilliant and piercing shade of blue, speckled with white and softer blues and darker blues and swirls of pale green. I blinked and his tongue vanished back into his mouth, leaving his lips to glisten wetly. I returned my attention to the broom and the crumbling nest of lace-like cobwebs. "I'm going to go ahead and read that silence as a _yes._ How about _Jun_?" He paused, then made a disapproving hum somewhere in the back of his throat. "_Sora_? _Nana_? _Mari_? _Yuki_?"

I ignored him. His voice faded into the background of creaking tiles and straw scrapping against the roof and feet scuffling through dirt. Vaguely, I could tell he was listing off names, most of which appeared to be Japanese, but occasionally he would break the trend and blurt out something foreign that caught my ear, something like _Rachel _or _Elizabeth_, which, he claimed hotly, would have matched my soft blonde hair. My shoulders began to ache with the effort of holding the heavy broom in the air, so I pulled it back down and dabbled at the sweat glistening along the arch of my forehead and dribbling down my cheeks. I could feel an icy droplet rolling down my back, freezing against the heat of my body -

"How about _Miku_?"

Something inside me shuddered, and my body froze. Nothing on my face changed - my eyes were dark and emotionless, my expression cold and hard and hinted nothing to the thoughts churning through my skull - but the brief pause of limbs, the sudden shift in my usually flawless demeanour, was something the demon hunted for each day, and did not miss. He wanted to find a crack in my mask and rip it apart, so he could leer over me and laugh at the faults and mistakes and secrets that lay beneath it, huddling together in a deep and shadowy recess somewhere in the labyrinth of my mind, where no one could find them.

The demon's feet scraped against the dirt floor.

"How does that sound?" He asked cheerfully. "_Miku _is a nice name, don't you think? The name of a good, Japanese lady."

I returned to the corner. I battered the remaining strands of silvery web away and pulled them clumsily from the small forest of straw spears and then rested it against the wall. I peered at the remaining corner (the other two were behind the bars) and held the lantern up so red firelight licked and danced across the wall, sending crazy shadows scattering around the room and my own shadow stretching up the wall and bending across the ceiling. I ignored the demon and his mention of Miku. Miku was nothing to me. Absolutely nothing. Her fate, however awful, meant _nothing _to me -

"Miku was like you, you know."

I tightened my grip on the lantern's handle. I nibbled lip. _What's wrong with me? _

"She was taller, though, and much bustier, with long green hair." I heard him shift some more, the dirt and pebbles crunching beneath his boots. "She'd drift about like a ghost, cleaning, handing me meals, never daring to meet my eyes. She seemed to frightened of me at first, almost jumping, shaking when I spoke...not like you. Not like a trained Keeper. You girls, you know how to give a guy the cold shoulder. You know how to tell him he's worthless and that you don't give a damn whether he lives or dies without so much as glancing in their direction. Miku didn't have the mask of cold indifference you ladies wear."

I could see the faint orange outline of yet another spider web glowing softly and casting a criss-crossing shadow of thin, delicate lines against the wall. With trembling fingers, I reached out for the broom. My chest felt tight, and the back of my skull throbbed. I blinked and in my mind I could see a little girl with huge turquoise eyes and thick turquoise hair playing with a doll made of simple rags and a length of brown string. She was giggling and reaching out in my direction, grinning from ear to ear.

I blinked again, and suddenly the previous keeper was there, staring at me with dead, dead eyes, hair spilling messily over her shoulders, skin pale and limbs dead weight at her sides. Her eyes were empty, so empty, and seemed fringed in some sort of despair I couldn't comprehend.

I swallowed thickly and grasped the broom.

The demon was still talking.

I felt as if this ridiculous one-sided conversation should have ended by now.

"Miku listened to me talk day in, day out, and finally had to say something." He let out a husky chuckle, and the sound shivered down my spine. "She broke your precious little rule! From that day on she talked to me all the time. She could talk for hours. She wasn't frightened of me at all, once she could talk." He chuckled again, the same dark, rough sound that made my heart shudder. "Then one day, she came in and said she wanted to set me free. Said she loved me more then anyone else in the world and wanted to let me go."

My blood was boiling. My vision blurred briefly and my throat tightened and the muscles clenched and I stood beside the wall, leaning heavily on the broom, shaking from head to toe. _Are you enjoying this? Is this what you want, to see me suffer? _Miku had fallen in love with the pathetic creature cowering behind me in the black. He wasn't a hideous thing as far as appearance went, but how could you fall in love with eyes that could shine a sweet blue as easily as they could smoulder a violent and blood-thirst crimson? Love hands that could stroke your cheeks as easily as they could tear you to bloody shreds? Love something that could turn around at any moment, on any day of any month of any year, and literally reach into your chest and cut out your heart?

Miku, you fool.

_"We're best friends, aren't we?"_

You fool.

"She tried to release me. She tried very, very hard, everyday, for almost two months." He continued happily. Or, I think he was happy. I wasn't really hearing his tone, just the words, and they ripped through me like a sword, left me bleeding and all sliced up and dangling slithers of red flesh hanging from my frame. "She tried every possible method she could think of to break the spells put upon these bars. But she wasn't a strong enough shaman, and the protective charms come from an ancient, powerful magic. The spells she cast, or tried to cast, were feeble things, easily snuffed out. They died before they even reached the bars."

He laughed suddenly, abruptly, and the sound was so loud and mocking and twisted that I couldn't take it anymore. Something snapped inside me and emotions I hadn't expressed in years surged out in a violent flood and before I knew it I was lunging at the bars with the broom in hand. I cracked the butt against the cage and a shocking explosion of green light made me cry out and stagger backwards. I heard the screech of chains and then the demon was there, almost pressed up against the bars, and his eyes were bright and glowing like a stolen patch of a summer blue sky and his hair was molten gold fractured with tongues of fire and streaks of orange and amber. He peered down at me, almost a head taller then myself, and I glared back fiercely, angrily, irrationally.

I couldn't control myself.

"Don't laugh," I hissed. "Don't laugh."

He smiled, and I could see the inhumanely sharp teeth peeking between his smooth lips. "So that's what you sound like. You have a cute voice."

"_Don't_," I snarled.

He blinked, unconcerned.

"Why?"

_"We'll always be together, won't we?"_

And I lunged.

I let go of the broom. I didn't feel it slip from my fingers or was even aware that I had loosened my grip, but when I sprang forward, my hands were free and the broom clattered against the ground. The bars contorted and twisted and suddenly my hands were around the demon's throat and we were falling together. I screamed and thrashed against him and clawed at his face; I raged like a wild animal, roaring and flailing. I couldn't see anything but a blur of hands and gold hair, and then something lurched beneath me and then I was on the ground and all I could see was his face. He wasn't grinning any more and there was scarlet blood streaming down his cheeks in thin curling rivers that bent and twisted in accordance to the dips and rises of his flesh.

I screamed at him and smashed my hands against his face. My nails dug viciously into his skin and blood bubbled out and dribbled down my fingers.

A drop fell free and splattered against my tongue.

My whole body shuddered, and something icy ballooned my chest. It was a sensation so strange my body shut down and all I could do was stare, huge-eyed, and suddenly the urge to wrap my arms around his neck and snuggle against his chest and just _stay _there was overpowering.

And then, without warning, the demon leaned down and kissed me.

I'd never kissed anyone before. The sensation of alien lips pressed against my own was startling. They were warm and wet and rough, and then his tongue forced my own lips apart and invaded my mouth. I should have shrieked and fought and ripped his tongue apart with my teeth, but instead I opened my lips wider and eagerly gave into his advances. A little moan sounded in the back of my throat and vibrated through my body, and he echoed the noise unconsciously, moving closer, wrapping his arms around my torso, and I ran my fingers through his golden hair. His teeth briefly nicked my lip and the taste of my own salty blood washed across my tongue, but then his was on mine and the taste was gone and my heart was thundering and his body was rubbing against mine -

Rough hands lashed out and pain erupted in my side and suddenly my body crashed against the wall and pain was surging through me like fire. It seared through my veins and burned my insides and boiled my brain. The pain got worse and worse and worse and I had to be on fire, I _had_ to be, I was burning inside out. My skin was charred and peeling away and my bones were melting and my hair was blazing with flames. I opened my mouth and screamed a savage scream of sheer agony -

_I was alone in the dark._

_All by myself._

_How long had I been this way? _

_How long had my world consisted of shadows and iron bars?_

_I want to hear a human voice._

_I want to go outside._

_What's the weather like today?_

My body jolted and my eyes snapped open, and I was leaning against the wall, back on my side of the iron cage. My legs wobbled dangerously beneath me and my stomach heaved at I stepped forward clumsily. The world spun briefly, flecks of black and white swirling before my eyes like frantic fireflies, and then I reached for the door and grasped the handle with both hands, just wanting something solid, something _real_, to ground me to earth. My chest hurt, screamed with a sort of quiet, intense agony that I had never experienced before.

I looked at the demon.

He was on the floor, his cheeks spotted with small bloody gashes, and his shoulders were shaking. He knelt amongst the dirt and cradled his tattered face in his hands, silent, trembling.

Tears welled in my eyes.

"Get out." He whispered hoarsely, softly. His voice shook along with his frame.

"Len," I breathed.

"_GET OUT!_" He roared viciously, enraged, and I burst out the door and into the sunlight.

* * *

**THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS. I LOVE ALL OF YOUR PEOPLE SERIOUSLY I LOVE YOU.  
**

**Confused? Don't worry. I'll explain what the hell just happened next chapter. :D**

**The names of these chapters will probably be made up at the last second. I may later put more thought and meaning into the chapter titles, but for now, they're just cool sounding colours.  
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**I'm starting to think Miku will be a bigger part in this story.  
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**Mikuo, too.  
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**I really like Rin at the moment. Normally, I don't like her, because I imagine her as having this sort of self-centered personality that most teenagers girsl seem to have - a naive girl obsessed with fashion and make-up, who thinks she knows everything and that the world revolves around her. Normally, that Rin only ever comes good when Len's in trouble. I like Rin in this story, though. I feel I'll enjoy exploring her character and helping her get control over her suppressed emotions.  
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**I'm loving Len, too, simply because he's Len, and in this fic, he's sexy.  
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**And yeah. They kissed.  
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**Try to control yourselves, fan-girls.  
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**Thanks for reading. I apologize for any grammar mistakes.  
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**- ravenbynight  
**


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